<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Trenches by Herr_Hc</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656852">Trenches</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herr_Hc/pseuds/Herr_Hc'>Herr_Hc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - World War I, M/M, WW1, World War I</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:34:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herr_Hc/pseuds/Herr_Hc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>World War 1, Passchendaele. Hux meets Kylo for the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Trenches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <strong> <span class="s1">Trenches</span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>
“<em>In a foreign field he lay, lonely soldier unknown grave”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">“On his dying words he prays, tell the world of Paschendale”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>See my spirit on the wind, across the lines beyond the hill”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>“Friend and foe will meet again, those who died at Paschendale</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Iron Maiden</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Passchendale</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Death.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was all the world contained and all that his mind contained. They said death smelled, it never did. The bodies did, as they rotted away next to Captain Armitage Hux. He laid his head back agaist the wall of mud, closing his eyes. The chattering around him lulled itself into fog. The electricity that ran it’s way through the trenches gave a slight glow under his eyelids. Yet the worst was the shells. Sleep was impossible as shown his eyes. With great purple bags underneath them. No one slept, not ever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A loud band erupted over the land. Stretching for miles. Seemingly never to end. Hux scrunched his nose in displeasure. He tried to move but all it did was put weight into his bruised side. It began burning again. A dull throb that would never end. He sighed, turned as dirt began pelting him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t really mind it anymore. Didn’t care, he already was filth encased. Even for a captain of the British army, sitting in a tench out in the middle of France. The Somme, Passchendaele, 1917. Though, he would be stupid not to admit that he had forgetten the date.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The higher ups always wanted the soldiers to be prim, proper and glistening and it was impossible to do so. Hux snarled at it, what pitiful people who started this war. They were incompetent to their people. To him, rotting away like the body of a Tommie next to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To say the least, he wanted to fight for his people. Not this way, not ever. Hux had wanted to bring glory to Great Britian. He thought that once the war has started he would become a commanding officer. He would rule the British war council and dictate the board. Decide Great War stragites and win the war, easily. It didn’t turn out to be the case. Him, the once proper gentleman, stuck down beneath the earth with water encasing his legs. Cold and hungry. He so desperately wanted to fire his at anyone. Anyone who would give themselves up in surrender. No, not those Prussians who fought them with their fear and courage. He wanted to see the Kaiser burn. Really truely burn, upon a Pyre. Wouldn’t that be glorious? Hux huffed in a partial luagh at the thought. Duggie Haig would look good to, up in flames. He was the reason why Britian was loosing so fucking terribly. Why he, was sitting here n this hellpit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux opened his eyes, irritated that his thoughts were being intrupyed. He opened his mouth to snap at the person yet stopped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A man, tall with black hair longer than it shoulder be by soldier pursedure stood in front of him. His helmet was ripped all the way to the side. What caught Hux was the huger scar running along the man’s face. Bleeding and cascading his face into a river of blood or maybe the was just his imagination.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes?” He drawled out. He didn’t feel like talking to people right now. Well no one at all, forever. His eyes began glazing over.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Private Ren sir!” The man sole with a low voice, seemingly half asleep too. Then Hux noticed the man, Private Ren had a America accent. He probably was one of the citizens who wanted to join but the United States didn’t let them. He presumed the man had traveled to Britain to join.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is that you want, Private Ren?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The Major Bellamy wanted to inform some of the officers that there’s been a shipment of alcohol and that the Captains should begin dividing them to the soldiers, Sir.” The dark man stepped back as Hux hauled himself to his feet. The news of alcohol gave him renewed spirits. His tongue went dry at the thought.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Private”. Hux began walking through the trenches, sipping his helmet back on. As he went on he felt a presence, dark one follow him. Unlike the many soldiers who were laying around, alive or dead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux stopped and looked back. The American dropped short, a mere few inches from his back. Both locked eyes, Hux stared deep into huge soft brown eyes. He quickly turned away and continued walking. Footsteps followed through the mud and water.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Private, why are you following me?” He asked, hearing his own voice cascade around them. Thankfully the shelling had stopped awhile ago. The river of blood that he thought once was rubbing down the man’s face was gone as he thought. He blinked and in its place was a long scar stretching from one side of the Private’s face to the other side.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You haven’t dismissed me sir.” Hux mentally slapped himself. Stupid. He turned back around to face Private Ren.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your dismissed”. He spoke but as the man turned to go Hux started. “You might as join me before the officers start getting rid of all the alcohol.” Hux gave a sly foxlike grin at the man before him. He turned and began walking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Footsteps followed.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux ended back inside the officers room, well they if he was specific. The Private Ren was with him. They had snagged four bottles and scattered. Hux had invited him to the room undneath the war zone were most of the Captains and such stayed at the front. The lamps casted great shadows in the hole as they sat seated at a table. No one was around, not even the other officers and the cook. Hux scoffed as he took a swig from the bottle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So how long have you been here” Asked the imposing Private. Hux lifted his aburn eyebrow. They had already drank through one bottle and already the second seem to be getting empty. Hux held it out to Kylo. The man gladfully took it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This sector? Only a couple of months. I assume your mean how long I’ve been in the war” He stated. Kylo nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Since the beginning. When Britian entered.” Hux didn’t want to give out his full war career. He slugged back into his wooden seat and rubbed a hand through his hair. Moving his fingers together when they came back even more gross than they were. He grimaced. “How about you Kylo?” He inquired. The man only shook his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Only a few months. Since November 1916.” Hux brow furrowed. He didn’t want to ask, he would sound like such an idiot. He was a officer after all but the time in the trenches. It fucks one up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you perhaps know what month it is?” The private’s head whipped up, eyes going in surprise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t know the date?” He spoke lowly and curiously. Hux only shook his head. “It’s the 20th of July” Hux only looked down at the newly opened bottle in his hand. He didn’t want to ponder about what was about to come across his mind. He pushed it away. Instead lifting the bottle to his lips and gulping it down. The sting and burn of the alcohol helped keep his sanity grounded.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They contained drinking until only one bottle remained. Hux popped the lid off. For the past half and hour they talked about little things. Things that nagged them, which part of Britian and America they were from. They didn’t talk about the war even though they were sitting right underneath it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kylo had begun slurring his words, the man prompetly not calling him sir anymore but Hux. Finally, Hux wanted to roll his eyes. He had invited him to a drink anyway not sit there and listen to the formatlities when trying to drink with a friend. Friend? Was this man a friend? Hux never cared for making friends in the war. Yes he would sometimes have a chat with a man or two. Or drink with them but never had he thought them of friends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was perhaps that he had shared a little to much with the Kylo and the man back at him. Yet when Kylo cracked a joke the next minute, it had Hux dying of laughter. Tears streamed down his face as his hand smacked the table.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All his hatred had been forgotten for them moment. Like fog on the water, gently being banished by the sun and Hux loved it. He wasn’t one for joy like this all the time. He liked simple pleasures of the Earth regardless of what the what the Bible said and prevented them from doing. Kylo was still a mystery but that mystery was soon falling away into a person Hux began becoming attached to. That thought lurked in his mind and he stopped laughing. Kylo looked up at him, the crinkles in his eyes falling away. His half smile falling away too. Hux only shook his head and thought of another joke. He began laughing again.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bottles had been all but emptied now. One rolled across the floor and hit Hux’s boot. He didn’t take notice. What grabbed his attention was a very drunk Kylo Ren who in turn had his attention on Hux, himself. Both of them seated near each other, bodies close together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It must of been 00:00 by now. Some of the men had come down into the dugout and gone to bed. Ignoring the two drunken men. Hux didn’t mind, the others were drunk to. So much for that alcohol, they would be getting a whipping soon for drinking all of it. He didn’t care and neither did Kylo.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hux?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Kylo.” He let the name slide of his mouth in a king wavelets tone as he watched Kylo blink heavily.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think, imma gona pass out.” Instead of just passing out right there on the table, the tall man got up. Hux did to but regretted it when Ren stumbled and knocked both them into the cot that laid next to the table. Hux groaned in response as Kylo’s weight rested on his shoulder and stomach. His legs were off the cot. It was vastly uncomfortable. He tried lazily pushing on the bigger man but all it did was make Kylo mumble something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“M to drunk for this” Hux muttered aloud and befor he knew it he was out like a light.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Hux’s eyes finally opened he groaned. His head pounded, truely well hurt. Damned alcohol. His liver ached. He needed to piss. He breathed and tried to move but found he coudnt. Then memeories came back to his mind. The night before the man he just recently met. A man who seemed to Hux that he has knew al his life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man in question was lying half on Hux. Sound asleep, his face turned away from Hux’s to the wall. The Captain groaned, his legs hurt too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kylo!” No response. “Kylo Ren!” He should the Private’s shoulders. The man bolted upright. His eyes were wild for a second but soften as he laid eyes on Hux. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I took your bed”. He stated blankly. Hux scoffed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did indeed do”. With that Hux pulled himself up from the cot, grabbed his helmet into his hands and looked at Kylo’s face with mild curiosity. Lifting up his hand he tapped Ren’s scar. He distinctly heard a breath catch. Smiling inwardly to himself, the scar felt raised of course. Rugged and art like.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you come to get this?” He asked as Hux transitioned his attention to the bottles lying around. He knew the story would have a gruesome story to it but he didn’t mind. He began picking Ben up waiting for a response. Turning around he started at Kylo. “You don’t want to?” The man only shook his head. “I do”. Then both of their eyes locked and the Private began.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Near the beginning when I joined. They had us attack the other trench. No mustard gas to fight them off and it took a it’s toll. I was only one of few that made it back but when I got to the German’s trench. They bombarded us. This”. He tapped his face. “Was from a bayonet”. He looked away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anybody that went out to war, that ran to the enemy’s’ stems have would have some sort of fucked up tjing happened to them. Either mentally or physically, it didn’t matter. There was no emotion Hux could portray but regret. Placing the helmet on his head and placing the bottles down on the table he walked back to Kylo. He knew the man wanted no groveling pitty and sadness bestowed on him. Hux only started at him and nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was nothing to say. Best leave it unsaid yet acknowledged it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now” Hux stood and took a pocket watch and scuritinzed it. “I have troops to inspect. I’ll see you in a two hours. At the entrence here.” Then with that Hux left the Private who still was sitting on the Captain’s cot.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After reviewing some of his soldiers, making sure their clothing was all in order. They themselves prim and proper and their rifles cleaned. Hux began making his way back the the reserve trenches.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The day before, he was scheduled to see the Major Bellamy early. Moving through the mud, dodging men who moved boxes, stretchers full of wounded and dead, ladders and the such around. He could hear the odd sound of men whispering, some ate, others shaved in half cracked mirrors. Some even slept, as they should, near right in the middle of the tench. Hux kicked the man in the leg. The lad jumped up, gave him a glance, refrained from glaring at his superior and moved.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir!” “Sir?” “Sir.” Was all Hux heard on his way. After some walking, his feet becoming colder and his body becoming hotter under the uniform and helmet he arrived at his superiors office inside the former British front line. He waited by the entrance then after a few seconds was let in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir!” He saluted the Major, Francis Bellamy was his name, a man very demanding most of the time. It made Hux’s life hell, working underneath this chap for nearly a year. The Major in turn, turned to him, helmet on, with a small pointed mustache on his tiny rat like face. He always reminded Hux of the rodents who scurried around the trenches, getting into everything. The dead bodies, the food, the paper even their clothes when they slept. That was a problem but it wouldn’t be fixed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Behind him sat a colonel and one of his staff members. He was to deep into work to realize Hux was there, or even that Hux failed to salute him. Hux smiled inwardly at this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tonight at 19:00, commands are to launch Mustard Gas at the enemy lines, then a rush in attack. Your soldiers will be sent out, Captain Hux. I expect the best results. News has that the Prussian have retreated yet we need to make sure. Other news has come in that during this time they will be shelling us. I want a full advantage surprise before they can attack back. You’ll be going with them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux nodded, said a simple yes sir. Will do sir, back out and grinder his teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bugger” He was probably going to die this time.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen up boys!” Hux walked around his soldiers. They were mostly boys. Some were older around their twenty’s with mustaches dusting their upper lips. They all looked worn out and rugged in their olive drab uniforms. Same with himself but Hux didn’t want to dwell on that thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tonight at 19:00 we’re going to be attack the lines”. Hux pointed. Some of the men groaned. Other only looked at the ground. “It’s not my call you chaps, before this they will be setting off mustard gas”. Another broad of mumbling came from the men. “After this we will be charging up through the top. Some of you will be going though the lines as well. Yet some of you are going to have crawl through the blockades. We’re doing this just as they are schedule to bombard us with their shells”. Hux sneered, anger coling in his gut. “You’ll meet back here at 18:40. Anybody that flees in cowardliness will be executed. Do you understand?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A chorus of yes sirs resounded then the men split off to do their own thing. Hux turned only to come face to face with Private Ren. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To say that his long black hair was quite odd out here in no man’s land was simple to say but for Hux he didn’t mind. Even though he was Ren’s commanding officer he didn’t want to enforce it even if it went against soldier code. He liked the look of it. He let his eyes graze of Kylo’s face. Seeing moles that didn’t appear to him before. The proportions of Ren’s face. He gave Kylo a inquisitive look. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do we.... Were attacking them tonight?” Kylo asked. The man was uncertain, saddened. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes we do Kylo. It’s not something I like either.” But Kylo reached our, his hand curling on Hux’s shoulder. Hux stilled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can’t you find another way?” Hux only shook his head at this. Feeling his hair fall in front of his eyes. They stood their, leaning against the dirt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are we going to do in the meantime?” The Private asked. Hux didn’t know. Some of the men would of thrown a last huzzah! But many of them were to tired to do so. Their resources depleted and their hope resided in the mud that clogged around their boots. Their spirits floated in the air that was constantly be punctured by bullets and strangled by gas. They had nothing to do but laze around and wait for their inevitable doom.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux stared off into the sky. For once it was clearer that I had ever been in a long long time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s nothing to do Kylo but wait.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Night had fallen. No sound was heard for miles. No shells had fallen today. For that Hux was grateful. The day still sucked though. Trodding through mud and gore. The organs of dead men just lying around. It was abhorrent. Hux was thirsty, he didn’t dare drink. He would probably be poisoned from the gas cans filled with the water. He couldn’t imagine how the men drank from those things as he watched Kylo do just that exactly right next to him. The Private handed it off to another lad.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux fingered the whistle that laid us did his hand. He looked up at the black sky slightly illuminated by the lights of the trench.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Masks! Masks!” He called out. Anytime now the lines would release them. Everybody in Hux’s didn’t began scrambling for their masks. The whites of their eyes showed more regardless even though there was no gas yet. Hux dig into his uniform and brought his out. An ugly sickly thing it was. The design was t pretty and it caused fear among many men. There was no way they showed these things on war propaganda. He sniffed. It still smelled slightly of the gas on the outside of it. Hux wanted to vomit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Next to him, Ren had his already on. Hux tugged it on and over his face. Disgust ran through him. Not just for how it looked or how it smelled but for what the gas did. Did to his country’s men when the wind fucked itself up and turned back to them. There was a slight wind yet Hux couldn’t tell which way it glided.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked over to Ren through partly dogged glass. Be coudnt see his friend’s eyes but he knew he was watching him. Then a sharp long sound came through the air. It hurt his ears. He hated that sound, every time he blew into the whistle that he now pocketed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then through his glass he saw the ugly sick colour come across the top of the trenches and into theirs. Men far away began screaming. He ignored it as he concentrated on the gas. It seemed to swirl around them for awhile but Hux knew. It was enveloping everything, even the trenches behind them. He took of his whistle. Closed his eyes. Took a breath, quickly lifted up his mask. Instantly the assault of the poison attack his face. He nearly fell from the shock and pain. Then he blew into the whistle. Slammed the mask back down. Drew in a deep breath, grabbed his rifle and lunges up the ladder. In a delirious state he did not recognize that Kylo was behind him. All he could tell was pain that hurt his face and his ears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then the shells came.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His rifle was gripped in his hand. Bayonet gleaming. He felt his officers gun safely tucked away on his side. Other Tommies ran in front of him. Some already vanishing and falling. Few barbed wire lined this part of no man’s land surprisingly. He needn’t worry. What he did worry about was the shells. They rocked the ground as they came. He heard men screaming. Explosions of dirt rocketed in the air and his helmet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damned if he do, damned if he didn’t. Damn the officers like himself that were forced to run into the heat of the battle regardless of their rank. He wished to be promoted. Oh to get out of this as he fell to his knees. No! He was not hurt! He was not hit by a bullet! A shell had knocked him off his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hand pulled him up from the ground and he quickly looked through the green haze. A man stood next to him, black hair peaking out of the mask. Kylo! But they needed to run! They would be killed here. He ripped himself out of Ren’s grip and resumed running. Reports was the next trench line was a quarter mile out yet all he could see was mounds of mud and dirt. Pits full of fresh new bodies and water. A tank lay broken and battered off to his left.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then he saw it. The dip that led to trench. The Prussians hadn’t had time to set up their machine guns and for that Hux was grateful. He recklessly jumped into the tench. Falling at least 6 feet down. knocking the wind out of hisself be junked up. He couldn’t stop or he would be killed. He lifted his rifle and started as he saw a figure rush from the fog.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He aimed and shot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man staggered then fell a few feet in front of Hux. He gaped in horror, it was not a Prussian but a simple Tommie. Oh dear lord, he had shot a comrade. He tumbled back, hand curling around his smoking rifle. How? How could he have mistaken the Tommie for a Prussian? No, he would be. No he didn’t want to think of that. He had to focus. Forget about that. Blame it on some German.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Tommie laid there, face obscured by mud. The body was cold still. He never did see who he was.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He continued on, his mind weakened.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Screams echoed around his body. The sound of vast repeats in the distant began to unnerve him. The fog and gas was tothick for him to see. The cold dread began creeping up upon his mind as the sense of no one being around gnawed on the back of his mind. Hux reached up to his mask, dropping his rifle. His fingers curling underneath the seam when a long draw out whistle pierced the air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In a instant all what he was about to do was forgotten when his soldier mind kicked back into gear and his body moved automatically.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Picking up his rifle he he looked to see through the trench for ladders. Indeed there were as he moved and propelled himself up the closest one. As he breached the top, machine gun fire began rapidly firing away. He swallowed. No time to think. Only to do and die.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He ran, again and again. They ran. Back and forth they went for centuries. Millennium lasted but only in this second. This no man’s land never did last. No, they wouldn’t all die. No they wouldn’t be running back for more dying for the rest of the day. Though it felt like that. It felt like nothing would ever stop and even exist.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t see the other comrades beside him, he only focused again on the mud, shell pits and their trench. All he thought was all he saw when the air moved and he began falling. His breath failing him gave him the reason why as his face hit watery mud. He choked and coughed as a reaction and tried to move his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yet as he moved his arms and legs he instantly dropped. Groaning he felt immense pain in his shoulder, left arm, right leg and his side. Moving his head he looked up to the grey green sky. His mask was off but the poison was gone. Even though the sky was still tainted and he let himself relax. All thigh to was gone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sky, so beautiful and disgusting. What it holds he would never know. Yet what it hold to Hux himself, was something sacred. Something unseen. He closed his eyes and ached. Ached for home. For his deceased mother and his father’s awful treatment to him. He didn’t care, he didn’t want to care anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His body flinched as a sound so ugly, so inhuman reached his ears, forcing his eyes open. What he saw never computed in his mind. Only that a horse, fiery in its being raced across the lands. Smoke rose from it and the noise that glanced off of it pained him. Hurt him and put fear unlike anything in his body. It cackled, screeched, grated and screamed as the world shook as each hoof struck the mud.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Hux hissed in a breath, the horse stopped, turning quickly it’s head was pointed at him. The ears were pinned back, and it screamed. Hux wanted to cover his ears, he wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t. What he stared at was Hell. What he stared at was War.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The thing screamed and screamed but was it the Hell screaming? He felt warm oozing down his body. He felt pain. He heard nothing except pain and he might of thought, he was the one screaming.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next thing Hux knew was he was upright. Somewhere safe, a little warmer and there were no more screams.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Opening his eyes to warm hands on his chest and no more weight upon his back. He was met with brown eyes of Kylo Ren. He smiled, a bit delirious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hux? You there”. The soft low melody of Ren’d voiced soothed him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes”. He choked out. Ren smiled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were hit a couple of times, Hux”. Stated Ren simply. Hux wanted to raise an eyebrow at this but it was to much effort. He only hummed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yknow, Kylo.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hate you”. Ren’s eyes opened wide. “But I love you you stupid thing”. Immediately Kylo’s face relaxed and he shook his face. Hux could see fear in his eyes but it was soon being drowned out by affection.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In a instant, Kylo’s hands were soft on his face and he felt the press of Kylo’s warm lips against his more cold body.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Ren backed up, Hux only stared at him. He began speaking but Hux was tired.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux wanted a good glass of some alcohol but Kylo’s voice sounded like home and the thought was soon forgotten. Hux smiled softly as Kylo’s words drained out as he fell into blackness.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Passchendeale : The third battle of Ypres from 31 July 1917 - 10 November 1917<br/>The Kaiser: Wilhelm II, King of Germany and Prussia.<br/>Douglas Haig: Commander of the British Army<br/><br/>Tommies: Nicknames for British Infatrymen during WWI</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>